The Free Lances Part 12

"Neither that, Excellentissimo."

"Then he must be here?"

"He is here, your Excellency."

"What's his name?"

"Kearney--Florence Kearney, _un Irlandes_."

A peculiar expression came over Santa Anna's features, a sort of knowing look, as much as to say the name was not new to him. Nor was it. That very morning, only an hour before, Don Ignacio Valverde had audience of him on a matter relating to this same man--Florence Kearney; in short, to obtain clemency for the young Irishman--full pardon, if possible.

But the Minister had been dismissed with only vague promises. His influence at court was still not very great, and about the motive for his application--as also who it originated from--Santa Anna had conceived suspicions.

Of all this he said nothing to the man before him now, simply inquiring--

"Is the _Irlandes_ at Tacubaya?"

"No, your Excellency; he's in the Acordada."

"Since you had the disposal of the Tejano prisoners, I can understand that," returned the Dictator, with a significant shrug. "It's about him, then, you're here, I suppose. Well, what do you want?"

"Your authority, Excellentissimo, to punish him as he deserves."

"For making that tracing on your cheek, eh? You repent not having punished him more at the time when you yourself had the power? Isn't it so, Senor Colonel?"

Santander's face reddened, as he made reply--

"Not altogether, your Excellency. There's something besides, for which he deserves to be treated differently from the others."

Santa Anna could have given a close guess at what the exceptional something was. To his subtle perception a little love drama was gradually being disclosed; but he kept his thoughts to himself, with his eyes still searchingly fixed on Santander's face.

"This Kearney," continued the latter, "though an Irishman, is one of Mexico's bitterest enemies, and especially bitter against your Excellency. In a speech he made to the _filibusteros_, he called you a usurper, tyrant, traitor to liberty and your country--ay, even coward.

Pardon me for repeating the vile epithets he made use of."

Santa Anna's eyes now scintillated with a lurid sinister light, as if filled with fire, ready to blaze out. In the American newspapers he had often seen his name coupled with such opprobrious phrases, but never without feeling savagely wrathful. And not the less that his own innate consciousness told him it was all as said.

"_Chingara_!" he hissed out, for he was not above using this vulgar exclamation. "If it is true what you say, Don Carlos, as I presume it is, you can do as you like with this dog of an _Irlandes_! have him shot, or have him despatched by _La Garrota_, whichever seems best to you. But no--stay! That won't do yet. There's a question about these Tejanos with the United States Minister; and as this Kearney is an Irishman, and so a British subject, the representative of that country may make trouble too. So till all this is settled, the _Irlandes_ mustn't be either shot or garrotted. Instead, let him be treated tenderly. You comprehend?"

The staff-colonel did comprehend; the emphasis on the "tenderly" made it impossible for him to mistake the Dictator's meaning, which was just as he desired it. As he pa.s.sed out of the presence, and from the room, his countenance was lit up, or rather darkened, by an expression of fiendish triumph. He now had it in his power to humiliate them who had so humbled him.

"Quite a little comedy!" soliloquised Santa Anna, as the door closed on his subordinate, "in which, before it's played out, I may myself take a part. She's a charming creature, this Senorita Valverde. But, ah!

nothing to the Condesa. That woman--witch, devil, or whatever I may call her--bids fair to do what woman never did--make a fool of Lopez de Santa Anna."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A WOODEN-LEGGED LOTHARIO.

For some time the Dictator remained in his seat lighting cigarrito after cigarrito, and puffing away at them furiously. The look of light frivolity had forsaken his face, which was now overcast with gloom.

At this time, as said, he wielded supreme unlimited power over the Mexican people--even to life and death. For although he might not recklessly or openly decree this, he could bring it about secretly--by means which, if rumour spoke true, he had more than once made use of.

Indeed, there stood against his name more than one well-confirmed record of a.s.sa.s.sination.

Thought of this may have had something to do with the cloud that had come over his features; though not for any qualms of conscience for the murders he may have committed or hired others to commit. More likely a fear that he himself might some day meet a similar fate; like all despots he dreaded the steel of the a.s.sa.s.sin. By his corrupt administration, he had encouraged bravoism till it had become a dangerous element in the social life of his country--almost an inst.i.tution--and it was but natural he should fear the bravo's blade turned against himself.

Another apprehension may at this time have been troubling him. Although to all appearance secure in the dictatorial chair, with a likelihood of his soon converting it into a real throne, he had his misgivings about this security. By imprisonments, executions, banishments, and confiscations, he had done all in his power to annihilate the Liberal party. But though crushed and feeble now, its strength was but in abeyance, its spirit still lived, and might again successfully a.s.sert itself. No man knew this better than he himself; and no better teacher could he have had than his own life's history, with its alternating chapters of triumph and defeat. Even then there was report of a _p.r.o.nunciamento_ in one of the northern cities of the Republic--the State, by a polite euphemism, being still so designated. Only a faint "gritto" it was, but with a tone that resembled the rumbling of distant thunder, which might yet be heard louder and nearer.

Little, however, of matters either revolutionary or political was he thinking now. The subject uppermost in his mind was that latent on his lips--woman. Not in a general way, but with thoughts specially bent upon one of them, or both, with whose names he had just been making free. As his soliloquy told, a certain "Condesa" had first place in his reflections, she being no other than the Condesa Almonte. In his wicked way he had made love to this young lady, as to many others; but, unlike as with many others, he had met repulse. Firm, though without indignation, his advances not yet having gone so far, nor been so bold, as to call for this. He had only commenced skirmishing with her; a preliminary stroke of his tactics being that invitation to ride in the State carriage extended to Dona Luisita Valverde, while withheld from the Countess--an astute manoeuvre on his part, and, as he supposed, likely to serve him. In short, the old sinner was playing the old game of "piques." Nor did he think himself so ancient as to despair of winning at it. In such contests he had too often come off victorious, and success might attend upon him still. Vain was he of his personal appearance, and in his earlier days not without some show of reason. In his youth Santa Anna would claim to be called, if not handsome, a fairly good-looking man. Though a native Mexican, a _Vera-cruzano_, he was of pure Spanish race and good blood--the boasted _sangre-azul_. His features were well formed, oval, and slightly aquiline, his complexion dark, yet clear, his hair and moustaches black, l.u.s.trous, and profuse.

But for a sinister cast in his eyes, not always observable, his countenance would have been pleasing enough. As it was he prided himself upon it even now that he was well up in years, and his hair becoming silvered. As for the moustaches, black pomatum kept them to their original colour.

One thing soured him, even more than advancing age--his wooden leg.

'Tis said he could never contemplate that without an expression of pain coming over his features, as though there was gout in the leg itself giving him a twinge. And many the time--nay, hundreds of times--did he curse Prince de Joinville. For it was in defending Vera Cruz against the French, commanded by the latter, he had received the wound, which rendered amputation of the limb necessary. In a way he ought to have blessed the Prince, and been grateful for the losing of it rather than otherwise. Afterwards the mishap stood him in good stead; at election times when he was candidate for the Chief Magistracy of the State. Then he was proud to parade the artificial limb; and did so to some purpose.

It was, indeed, an important element in his popularity, and more than once proved an effective aid to his reinstatement. With a grim look, however, he regarded it now. For though it had helped him politically, he was not thinking of politics, and in what he was thinking about he knew it an obstruction. A woman to love a man with a wooden leg! And such a woman as Ysabel Almonte! Not that he put it to himself in that way; far from it. He had still too good an opinion, if not of his personal appearance, at least of his powers otherwise, and he even then felt confident of success. For he had just succeeded in removing another obstacle which seemed likely to be more in his way than the wooden leg. He had but late come to know of it; but as soon as knowing, had taken measures to avert the danger dreaded--by causing the imprisonment of a man. For it was a man he feared, or suspected, as his compet.i.tor for the affections of the Condesa. It had cost him no small trouble to effect this individual's arrest, or rather capture. He was one of the proscribed, and in hiding; though heard of now and then as being at the head of a band of _salteadore_--believed to have turned highwayman.

But he had been taken at length, and was at that moment in the gaol of the Acordada; which Santa Anna well knew, having himself ordered his incarceration there, and given other instructions regarding him to the gaol-governor, who was one of his creatures.

After sitting for some time, as he stretched out his hand, and held the end of his paper cigar to the red coals burning in a _brazero_ on the table before him, the frown upon his features changed to a demoniac smile. Possibly from the knowledge that this man was now in his power.

Sure was he of this; but what would he not have given to be as sure of her being so too!

Whether his reflections were sweet or bitter, or which predominated, he was not permitted longer to indulge in them. The door again opening-- after a tap asking permission to enter--showed the same aide-de-camp.

And on a similar errand as before, differing only in that now he placed two cards on the table instead of one; the cards themselves being somewhat dissimilar to that he had already brought in.

And with altogether a different air did Santa Anna take them up for examination. He was enough interested at seeing by their size and shape that those now desiring an audience of him were ladies. But on reading the names, his interest rose to agitation, such as the aide-de-camp never before had seen him exhibit, and which so much astonished the young officer that he stood staring wonderingly, if not rudely, at the grand dignitary, his chief. His behaviour, however, was not noticed, the Dictator's eyes being all upon the cards. Only for an instant though. If he gave ready reception to his late visitor, still readier did he seem desirous of according it to those now seeking speech with him.

"Conduct the ladies in," was his almost instantaneous command, as quickly retracted. For soon as spoken he countermanded it; seemingly from some afterthought which, as a codicil, had suddenly occurred to him. Then followed a chapter of instructions to the aide-de-camp, confidential, and to the effect that the ladies were not to be immediately introduced. He was to keep them in conversation in the ante-chamber outside, till he should hear the bell.

Judging by his looks as he went out the young subaltern was more than satisfied with the delay thus enjoined upon him. It was aught but a disagreeable duty; for, whether acquainted with the ladies who were in waiting, or not, he must have seen that both were bewitchingly beautiful--one being Luisa Valverde, the other Ysabel Almonte.

CHAPTER TWENTY.

A PAIR OF BEAUTIFUL PEt.i.tIONERS.

Soon as the aide-de-camp had closed the door behind him, Santa Anna sprang up from his seat and hastily stumped it to a large cheval gla.s.s which stood on one side of the room. Squaring himself before this he took survey of his person from crown to toes. He gave a pull or two at his moustaches, twisting their points, and turning them upward along his cheeks. Then running his fingers comb-like through his hair, he gave that also a jaunty set. In fine, straightening himself in his gold-braided uniform frock, with a last glance down to his feet--this resulting in a slight grimace--he returned to the state chair and reseated himself.

With all his gallantry and politeness--and to these he made much pretension--it was not his custom to receive lady visitors standing. In the upright att.i.tude the artificial leg made him look stiff, and he preferred stowing it away under the table. Besides, there was his dignity, as the grand figure-head of the nation, which he now wished to have its full effect. Leaning forward, he gave a downward blow to the spring of the table bell; then a.s.suming an att.i.tude of expectant grandeur, sate expectant. This time the aide-de-camp required no pa.s.sing to and fro; and the door again opening, the ladies were ushered into the august presence.

In their air and manner they betrayed agitation too, while the serious expression upon their features told they were there on no trivial errand.

"Pray be seated, ladies," said the Dictator, after exchanging salutations with them. "'Tis not often the Condesa Almonte honours the Palacio with her presence, and for the Senorita Valverde, were it not for official relations with her father, I fear we should see even less of her than we do."

While speaking he pointed to a couple of couch chairs that stood near the table.

They sat down rather hesitatingly, and slightly trembling. Not that either would have been at all timid had the occasion been a common one.

Both were of Mexico's best blood, the Condesa one of the old _n.o.blesse_ who hold their heads higher even than the political chief of the State, when he chances to be--as more than once has occurred--an adventurer of humbler birth. Therefore, it was not any awe of the great dignitary that now unnerved them, but the purpose for which they were seeking speech with him. Whether Santa Anna guessed it, or not, could not be told by his looks. An experienced diplomatist, he could keep his features fixed and immovable as the Sphinx, or play them to suit the time and the tune. So, after having delivered himself, as above, with the blandest of smiles upon his face, he remained silent, awaiting the rejoinder.

It was the Condesa who made it.